Pen and Ink Pot

In a poet's room, someone saw an ink pot on the table and said, "What an ink pot can produce is amazing! What could be the next step? Yes, that must be amazing
Not bad at all, "the ink pot said. That's unimaginable - I often say that! "It said to the quill and other things on the table that could hear it. The things that come out of me must be so wonderful! Yes, it's almost unbelievable! When someone puts a pen into my body, I don't know what I can produce next. I only need to take out one drop of my pen to write half a page and record a lot of things. I am truly something amazing. I produce all the works of poets: the vivid people people people people think they are familiar with, all the deep emotions, humor, and vivid pictures of nature. I don't understand myself because I am not familiar with nature, but it undoubtedly exists inside my body. What came out of my body were: a floating crowd, bright girls, brave warriors riding horses, Bill Duver, and Jisdan Gimmel; Every fifteen minutes, Kirstenkimer strikes. Yes, I don't know myself—— To be honest, I never thought I would have anything to take out
You're right! "Said the quill. You don't need a mind at all, because if you use a mind, you will understand that you are just providing a little liquid. You flow water so that I can express what is in my heart clearly. The pen is the one who really writes on paper! No one will suspect this. Most people's understanding of poetry is not much different from an old ink kettle
Your experience is really meager! "The ink pot said. In less than a week, you're already half dead from exhaustion. Do you aspire to be a poet? You're just a servant. Before you came, I knew many people like you. Some of you belonged to the goose feather family, and some of you were made in England! I've dealt with both goose feather pens and fountain pens! Many of them have served me; when he comes back, there will be even more who will come to serve me. He acts on my behalf and writes down what he took from me. I really want to know if he will first take from me. Take out what
Ink! "Said the pen.
Late at night, the poet returned. He went to a concert, listened to a distinguished violinist's performance, and was also fascinated by this wonderful art. This musician plays astonishingly rich melodies on his instrument, sometimes like rolling water dots, sometimes like birds chirping and singing together, and sometimes like the rustling wind blowing through the woods. He felt his heart crying, but in a coordinated manner, like a woman's pleasant voice. It seems that not only the strings are retracting the sound, but also the columns, even the tips and resonating discs are retracting the sound. This is an amazing performance! Although the instrument is not easy to play, the bow easily slides back and forth on the strings, like a game. You might think that anyone can pull it a few times.
The violin seems to be retracting its sound, and the bow seems to be sliding on its own - all music seems to be played by these two things. People have forgotten the artist who mastered them and gave them life and soul. People have forgotten about this artist, but this poet remembers him, writes down his name, and also expresses his thoughts:

Fides and bows only boast about their achievements, how foolish! However, we often do such foolish things - poets, artists, scientific inventors, generals. We show great pride, but we are all just music played by God. Fortunately, it belongs to Him! We have nothing to be proud of
Yes, the poet wrote these words as a fable and titled it: Artist and Instrument.
This is for you, madam! "Said the pen to the ink pot when there was no one else nearby. Didn't you hear him loudly reciting what I wrote
Yes, this is what I gave you to write down, "the ink pot said. This is a mockery of your arrogance! Others mock you, but you don't know! I shoot an arrow at you from my heart - of course, I know my malice
Your ink can! "Said the pen.
Your pen holder! "The ink pot also said.
They all believe that they have fought back well and beautifully. This thought makes them excited - they can sleep with this excited mood, and they fall asleep. However, the poet did not fall asleep. Many thoughts welled up in his heart, like the melody of a violin, like spinning beads, like the rustling wind blowing through the forest. He can feel his own heart in these thoughts and see the flicker of the eternal Creator.
Fortunately, it should belong to him! (1860)
This fairy tale was announced to be published on December 9, 1859 (but printed on the cover as 1860) in Volume 1, Part 4 of the "New Collection of Fairy Tales and Stories". Hans Christian Andersen wrote in his notes: "In 'The Pen and the Kettle', everyone who has heard the performances of violinists Einst and Neuenard will recall other wonderful melodies. 'Heinnich Wilhelm Ernst (1814-1865) and Hubert Leonard (1819-1840) were distinguished as famous violinists and composers from Austria and Belgium. This story is actually a small literary criticism, which means that no matter how good the material is, without the fusion and creation of the artist or writer's soul, it cannot become a work of art.